Mine is a little sad, so bare with me here… I am Arika G and this is what I know. I know what it's like to be happy one day and then have it go down hill the next. I know what it's like to not know what to do to be happy again. I know what it's like to take a blade to my skin and have it leave scars. I know what it's like to fake a smile every day so others around you won't feel your pain. I've gotten to the point where I don't feel pain when the blade cuts through my skin. All I feel is the tears running down my face as I do. I know it's wrong and I know it's not good for me too. I have also gotten to the point where many people tried to stop me but loss hope in me. I know many people love me but I also know many people that lie. I know people may say "she only does it for attention" that is why if you look at my arms they're clean. I do not self-harm for attention. I have reasons that is for me only to see. I know what it's like to pretend to be happy every day. I know I am a fighter. I know this is wrong. I also know that, this isn't what you expected for me to write about but hell no one did. This is my story so keep reading if you will. I won't going to depth but this is the basics why I do what I do. I don't like naming names so I will only say numbers. Number One.. I just moved to Ventura with a new school not knowing anyone but yet this wasn't the year I started. It all started with sixth-grade middle school where I met Number One. I remember meeting her for the first day and later finding out she have had self-harm. I remember thinking that I could never be like that. That I could never harm myself for some other reason then an accident. She soon became very close friend until eighth-grade. Number One soon changed her style, her story, and her friends. She still harms herself even more now but not for the same reason anymore. Later that year she soon attacked me not physically but emotionally. She still hides like nothings wrong. Yet, Number One still wonders why I don't talk to her anymore. Oh, there's more don't worry here is Number Two. You probably thought that there would be a guy in the situation. Well I guess, you're right. The year of seventh grade is where I met Number Two. I was in a grade higher than him but yet he was a month older than me. (He started school late. Okay, he did not get held back.) We dated for a year and four months… He broke up with me because he believed I didn't trust him, after a year and four months. A year and four months. A year and four months and he believed that I didn't trust him. You guys might believe that middle school relationships don't last but I guess that's kinda right because I haven't been in one or known one that has. Yet, that doesn't show that it doesn't mean anything better then a high school freshman relationship. Relationships are the same as long as they committed to each other, I mean that's what I believe. This is also the year that I started self-harm but this is not the reason why I self-harmed. This was the reason why I believe how I got depression. Number Two didn't just break up with me. He broke me. Number Two made me question myself. Made me have issues with trusting others and myself. This was also the first year I had my first anxiety attack that only my really close friend knows about and now you. I would break down emotionally and then soon mentally. Thank you so much Number Two. Yet, I wouldn't blame you because the girl you left me for was very beautiful. Don't leave so soon we're almost done. Number Three it's your turn. February 24,2014 was one of the worst days of my life. If anyone knows me really well they would also know it's my birthday. February 24 of this year was my worst birthday yet and I can't imagine if it can get any worst than this one. February 24, my birthday, is also the day that my Great Great Aunt passed away at age 81. I remember getting the call from Number Three saying she had just died before I had a chance to call her and tell her about my day. I'm not mad at Number Three for being the bearer of bad news. I'm mad at him for what he did. Long story short I was put in her Will and well… someone had to take the house am I right? Well, Number Three wasn't happy that she gave a 14 year-old girl a house and a fund for college. Let me just get one thing straight. HE HAD NO RIGHT TO GO INTO THAT HOUSE AND THROW AWAY EVERYTHING IN IT. That was my job and he took the liberty of leaving me a full dumpster and a few photos of my Great Great Aunt. You know how you're supposed to trust family. How you're supposed to love them unconditionally. Not with mine. Number Three didn't just do that he also took the rest of the money out of her bank that was no ones to claim. Tell me, Number Three what was your purpose of throwing everything away? Were you jealous? Was that it? Did I guess it right? The fact you made us drive to LA just to receive a answer and keys was childish. If I ever see you I honestly have nothing to say to you because of that month of crying. That month of crying and scars can not be replace. Yet, you didn't even wish me happy birthday… how sad. This is the end. Just to say these aren't all the people that made me do what I do. The rest though don't think I haven't forgot about you because I haven't. Just wait until next time maybe I'll write a book! So the whole world can hear me. Na. Anyways, I guess I should talk about why I do what I do it's not because of one particular person it's everyone that came and left my life. It's anyone that came and left me with scars. It's anyone who emotionally attack me. It wasn't just one day I decide to take a knife to my skin. It worked up emotionally over time and as things build up, build up,and build up you soon can't handle everything. I KNOW this wasn't the way to let it out. I KNOW THIS IS WRONG. I can't change the past though and I don't know how I would make the future any better. This is part of my life now. Will I change it? I don't know. Just to say I don't need therapy or counseling. It's my fight not yours. I'm a fighter and I'm going live life until I'm dead.
I am Arika G and this is what I know. I know what it's like to be happy one day and then have it go down hill the next. I know what it's like to not know what to do to be happy again. I know what it's like to take a blade to my skin and have it leave scars. I know what it's like to fake a smile every day so others around you won't feel your pain. I've gotten to the point where I don't feel pain when the blade cuts through my skin. All I feel is the tears running down my face as I do. I know it's wrong and I know it's not good for me too. I have also gotten to the point where many people tried to stop me but loss hope in me. I know many people love me but I also know many people that lie. I know people may say "she only does it for attention" that is why if you look at my arms they're clean. I do not self-harm for attention. I have reasons that is for me only to see. I know what it's like to pretend to be happy every day. I know I am a fighter. I know this is wrong. I also know that, this isn't what you expected for me to write about but hell no one did.
This is my story so keep reading if you will. I won't going to depth but this is the basics why I do what I do. I don't like naming names so I will only say numbers. Number One.. I just moved to Ventura with a new school not knowing anyone but yet this wasn't the year I started. It all started with sixth-grade middle school where I met Number One. I remember meeting her for the first day and later finding out she have had self-harm. I remember thinking that I could never be like that. That I could never harm myself for some other reason then an accident. She soon became very close friend until eighth-grade. Number One soon changed her style, her story, and her friends. She still harms herself even more now but not for the same reason anymore. Later that year she soon attacked me not physically but emotionally. She still hides like nothings wrong. Yet, Number One still wonders why I don't talk to her anymore.
Oh, there's more don't worry here is Number Two. You probably thought that there would be a guy in the situation. Well I guess, you're right. The year of seventh grade is where I met Number Two. I was in a grade higher than him but yet he was a month older than me. (He started school late. Okay, he did not get held back.) We dated for a year and four months… He broke up with me because he believed I didn't trust him, after a year and four months. A year and four months. A year and four months and he believed that I didn't trust him. You guys might believe that middle school relationships don't last but I guess that's kinda right because I haven't been in one or known one that has. Yet, that doesn't show that it doesn't mean anything better then a high school freshman relationship. Relationships are the same as long as they committed to each other, I mean that's what I believe. This is also the year that I started self-harm but this is not the reason why I self-harmed. This was the reason why I believe how I got depression. Number Two didn't just break up with me. He broke me. Number Two made me question myself. Made me have issues with trusting others and myself. This was also the first year I had my first anxiety attack that only my really close friend knows about and now you. I would break down emotionally and then soon mentally. Thank you so much Number Two. Yet, I wouldn't blame you because the girl you left me for was very beautiful.
Don't leave so soon we're almost done. Number Three it's your turn. February 24,2014 was one of the worst days of my life. If anyone knows me really well they would also know it's my birthday. February 24 of this year was my worst birthday yet and I can't imagine if it can get any worst than this one. February 24, my birthday, is also the day that my Great Great Aunt passed away at age 81. I remember getting the call from Number Three saying she had just died before I had a chance to call her and tell her about my day. I'm not mad at Number Three for being the bearer of bad news. I'm mad at him for what he did. Long story short I was put in her Will and well… someone had to take the house am I right? Well, Number Three wasn't happy that she gave a 14 year-old girl a house and a fund for college. Let me just get one thing straight. HE HAD NO RIGHT TO GO INTO THAT HOUSE AND THROW AWAY EVERYTHING IN IT. That was my job and he took the liberty of leaving me a full dumpster and a few photos of my Great Great Aunt. You know how you're supposed to trust family. How you're supposed to love them unconditionally. Not with mine. Number Three didn't just do that he also took the rest of the money out of her bank that was no ones to claim. Tell me, Number Three what was your purpose of throwing everything away? Were you jealous? Was that it? Did I guess it right? The fact you made us drive to LA just to receive a answer and keys was childish. If I ever see you I honestly have nothing to say to you because of that month of crying. That month of crying and scars can not be replace. Yet, you didn't even wish me happy birthday… how sad.
This is the end. Just to say these aren't all the people that made me do what I do. The rest though don't think I haven't forgot about you because I haven't. Just wait until next time maybe I'll write a book! So the whole world can hear me. Na. Anyways, I guess I should talk about why I do what I do it's not because of one particular person it's everyone that came and left my life. It's anyone that came and left me with scars. It's anyone who emotionally attack me. It wasn't just one day I decide to take a knife to my skin. It worked up emotionally over time and as things build up, build up,and build up you soon can't handle everything. I KNOW this wasn't the way to let it out. I KNOW THIS IS WRONG. I can't change the past though and I don't know how I would make the future any better. This is part of my life now. Will I change it? I don't know. Just to say I don't need therapy or counseling. It's my fight not yours. I'm a fighter and I'm going live life until I'm dead.